


It is not Love that is Blind (but Jealousy)

by rosewiththorns



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: ATTENTION, Aftercare, Detroit Red Wings, Discipline, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Kneeling, Kneeling Universe, Loneliness, M/M, Non-Sexual Submission, Paddling, Spanking, mentoring, prank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:16:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5537849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosewiththorns/pseuds/rosewiththorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niklas is jealous of Hank, and Steve is not happy. Set in an alternate universe where Hank is a rookie the year after Nik is. Written per reader request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It is not Love that is Blind (but Jealousy)

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written per reader request. It’s my first paddling story, so hopefully I didn’t make it too harsh. As always, feel free to let me know what you thought or felt in the comments. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate that holiday!

“It is not love that is blind but jealousy.”—Laurence Durrelll

It is not Love that is Blind (but Jealousy) 

“Are you okay, Hank?” Steve asked, although he thought it was a rather stupid question when Heank had been kneeling before him in one of the meeting rooms at the Joe, getting tenser instead of more relaxed as Steve massaged his shoulders, an action that usually untied the knots in Hank’s muscles. Obviously, Hank wasn’t okay; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that. His hands had been jittery as a squirrel’s paws at practice, and his eyes had kept darting furtively over to Steve, as if the cause of his anxiety were his own captain, even though Steve had no idea what made his rookie so suddenly scared of him. 

“I’m just nervous.” Hank’s voice cracked as though he were going through a second puberty before he went on, “Nervous and wondering…” 

“Wondering what?” Steve frowned when Hank trailed off, his cheeks crimson as bricks on a Colonial style house. 

“If you’re going to force me to—you know,” whispered Hank, and apparently whatever he feared Steve compelling him to do was so dreadful that he couldn’t speak of it directly. 

“I don’t know.” Steve’s forehead furrowed as he struggled to figure out what awful thing Hank believed he would be forced to do. “You’ll need to tell me, kid.” 

“Pleasure you.” Hank’s mumble was rendered even more inaudible by the fact that he was staring at the floor as if it promised salvation, but when Steve processed the words and decided that he had not misheard, he felt as if he had gone temporarily mute. 

“No, I’m not going to force you to pleasure me, Hank,” answered Steve firmly once he could speak again, gently guiding Hank’s chin upward so their wide eyes—Hank’s still terrified and Steve’s shocked—could lock. “I’m not ever going to force you or anyone else to do anything like that. Understand?” 

“Yeah.” Relief flitted across Hank’s face like a sunbeam, and his shoulders eased under Steve’s palms for the first time sine he had started kneeling. 

“Good.” Steve hesitated, because he realized that he could be poking a hornet’s nest of painful memories, but he had to prod when something as serious as sexual abuse might be revealed, before continuing softly, cupping Hank’s chin, “I recognize that it may be difficult for you to tell me, Hank, but I have to know if somebody in Sweden did something to you so you thought I’d do that too.” 

He needed to know not only so that he could help Hank heal but also so he could hop on the next plane to Sweden and castrate whoever had hurt Hank. 

“No.” Something about Hank’s steady gaze convinced Steve that this was the truth. Victims of abuse often lied to cover up for those who mistreated them, but surely not that well, Steve told himself. “Nothing anyone did in Sweden made me think you’d do that to me.” 

There was enough emphasis on the “in Sweden” that Steve, stroking the shell of Hank’s ear, asked, “Was it something someone in North America did then?” 

“Not so much what they did.” Hank fiddled with his fingers, cheeks burning like embers. “More what they said.” 

“Who said what?” pressed Steve, frowning. 

“Kronner.” Hank bit his lip. “He asked me if you’d forced me to do anything yet, and when I was all surprised and answered that you hadn’t, he said that you must be going easy on me now, but soon you’d be fucking me in the mouth and ass.” 

“That was his idea of a funny joke.” Steve’s jaw clenched as he noted inwardly that when he was done discipling Nik, Nik wouldn’t be finding anything amusing for a long time. “It was a dumb joke, though, and I’ll let him know that. You’ll be getting an apology from him tomorrow, or I’ll hear why from him.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” protested Hank swiftly, and Steve imagined that he did not relish the prospect of being regarded as a snitch. 

“I’m afraid I do.” Steve shook his head. “What Kronner said to you was utterly unacceptable. I won’t tolerate such behavior from anyone on the team.” 

“I don’t want to get him into trouble, Captain,” Hank tried again. 

“You didn’t; he did it all by himself.” Steve ruffled Hank’s hair and then fumbled in his wallet to withdraw a bill, which he thrust at Hank. “Go buy yourself a beer, kid. You look as if you could use one.” 

“Thank you, Stevie.” Brightening as if even the promise of alcohol was erasing his worries, Hank jumped to his feet and hurried out of the meeting room. 

With considerably less buoyancy in his step, Steve stalked into the hallway and strode down the corridor to the exercise room, where he had spotted Nik running on the treadmill after practice. When he reached his destination, he discovered that Nik was still on the treadmill though he had slowed to a jog. 

“Niklas Kronwall!” barked Steve to get Nik’s attention as he stormed across the room as fast as he could, considering he had to wend a path through an amalgamation of weights, hurdles, stationary bikes, and treadmills. 

Nik, humming to a song thudding through his earbuds, acted as if he could not hear Steve, though Steve thought he had bellowed loudly enough to be heard in Toronto. 

“When I talk to you, you take these damn things out and listen to me,” hissed Steve after he had yanked off Nik’s earbuds and shoved them into his own pocket, confiscating them until Nik earned their return with a requisite degree of repentance. 

“I’m listening, Stevie.” Lifting his hands in capitulation, Nik slowed to a walk and then a halt. 

“Do I have to tell you what Hank said you warned him about, or do you already know, huh?” Steve’s balled fists perched like menacing hawks on his hips. 

“Don’t tell me he believed that crap?” Nik emitted a laugh as forced as the canned track on a sitcom. 

“Don’t tell me that you didn’t want him to, Nik,” retorted Steve, arching a testy eyebrow. 

“It was a prank, Captain.” There was a petulant pout to Nik’s lips that Steve was in too tetchy a mood to appreciate. 

“You don’t prank about me sexually abusing a rookie,” snapped Steve, tugging Nik off the treadmill with a jerk on his elbow and hauling him through the array of exercise equipment toward the door that fed out into the corridor. “It terrifies the rookie and insults me.” 

“I didn’t think about it insulting you, Stevie.” Nik nibbled on his lip as Steve steered him down the hallway toward one of the Joe’s myriad exits. 

“Well, you can think about it now, then,” growled Steve, his jaw clenching. “You can also think about how hard I’m going to beat your butt when we get back to my house.” 

Nik gave a nervous swallow at this declaration that his backside would soon be in the line of fire, but the warning about his impending punishment subdued him into silence for the entire walk out of the Joe and into the parking lot, where Steve’s car awaited them, giving Steve ample time to reflect on the exact discipline he would have to administer to Nik. 

His intestines knotting because he hated using anything but his hand to punish his charges, Steve thought that Nik’s offense was too severe for a typical spanking. Ultimately, a spanking was a childish punishment reserved for the essentially big boy misbehaviors rookies had the habit of engaging in, but Nik’s crime hadn’t been childish at all. It had been adult in its cruel concept and ruthless execution. That, as far as Steve was concerned, warranted a paddling. A paddling was the harshest punishment Steve could deliver that meant the offender had intentionally undermined the team in some way. Each searing swat branded loyalty to them team into the body. 

As if he could sense that he was in more trouble than he had ever been before with Steve, Nik remained quiet as a shadow while they climbed into Steve’s car and buckled their seat-belts. It was only after Steve had pulled out of the driveway and started the journey home that Nik muttered, “If you’re going to give me the silent treatment, can you at least turn on the radio?” 

Wanting Nik to mull over his crime and the depth of the punishment he was likely to face as soon as they reached Steve’s house, Steve glowered at him. “No.” 

“Can I have my earbuds back then?” Nik proffered a palm. 

“Absolutely not, Niklas.” Steve swatted Nik’s arm away. “If you ask me again, I’ll throw them out the window.” 

“Isn’t littering against the law?” Nik massaged his skin where Steve had slapped it. “Don’t you have to pay a fine if you get caught doing it?” 

“If I get caught chucking your ear buds out the window, you’ll be paying the fine.” Steve gritted his teeth. 

His arguments apparently exhausted, Nik lapsed into silence until they arrived at Steve’s house, where Steve practically had to drag a Nik who suddenly desired to travel at a pace that would have lost a marathon against a snail up to the guest bedroom where he stored the dreaded paddle in a nightstand. 

“Kneel,” ordered Steve tersely once they’d entered the guest room, and he had shut the door behind them, tossed a pillow on the peach carpeted floor, and taken a seat on the overstuffed king bed. As Nik obeyed, he went on sharply, “Harmless pranks against rookies are acceptable. They can be an amusing way of welcoming somebody to the team. However, vicious and malicious pranks are not permitted while I’m captain of this team. Far from welcoming someone onto the team, those sort of pranks are more like bullying that excludes a newcomer and makes the target feel as if he will never belong on this team. Anything that could cause a rookie physical, emotional, or psychological damage falls into the category of forbidden pranks. Your prank caused Hank emotional and psychological distress because it made him believe that he was going to be abused by me—someone he placed trust in during a difficult transition to a new country and to the NHL. I’m sure you remember how much you relied on me for guidance and support when you first entered the NHL.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Nik’s mouth stayed open for an extra second, as if he wanted to add something else, but a second later, he seemed to reconsider and closed his mouth with a click. 

“Your prank also insulted me.” Steve resumed his lecture once it was clear that Nik was done answering. “It suggested that I would abuse someone in my charge, and that I would take advantage of somebody sexually. I trust that you know enough about my character to assume that I would be drawn and quartered before I did either of those things.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Nik nodded. “I know you’d never do either of those things.” 

“Hank didn’t.” Steve pinched his nose, fighting the onset of a migraine he could feel coming on from the pressure of dealing with Nik’s prank. “That’s why it was such a mean-spirited trick to pull on him.” 

“I’m sorry.” Nik’s fingers tore at the carpet fibers. 

“I accept your apology, kid.” Steve clasped Nik’s shoulders gently. Although he was aware that most mentors would never have shown affection to a rookie they were about to punish, Steve had always believed that the more those he disciplined understood that he did so from a place of caring and compassion, the deeper their bond grew and the better the individual responded to his discipline. “I expect you to give one to Hank tomorrow as well.” 

“I’ll do that, Captain,” promised Nik, fingers continuing to fidget with the carpet. 

“Good.” Steve paused before stating sternly, “I’m afraid that this is a situation where an apology alone won’t be enough to teach you the lesson you must learn.” 

“I know.” Nik’s head drooped like a flower in a drought. “You’re going to spank me, aren’t you, Stevie?” 

“Not exactly.” Steve sighed, and when Nik gaped at him, he explained in a tone he intended to be crisp but came out cracked, “I’m going to paddle you, Nik?” 

“You want to paddle me?” Nik gasped as if Steve had just transformed into an attacking grizzly bear. 

“I don’t want to paddle you.” Steve patted Nik’s cheek. “I have to paddle you, though.” 

Before Nik could protest further, Steve rose and pointed at the bed, commanding in a voice that was firmer than he felt, “Take down your pants and underwear. Then pick up the pillow and put it under your hips when you lay down on the bed.” 

While Nik, visibly trembling from top to toe, complied, Steve slid open the drawer of the nightstand and withdrew a paddle. Seeing that Nik was properly positioned for the punishment, Steve rested one hand between the blades of Nik’s shaking shoulders to ensure that he stayed in place while the other drew sharply back to prepare to paddle Nik’s rump. 

After exhaling all the air in his lungs to ensure that he wasn’t angry just very stern—because he would never paddle or spank in anger—he took the powerful swing at Nik’s behind. As a scarlet stripe burned into life where the paddle had struck, Steve rapped out, “You will never play another cruel prank on a rookie or any other teammate.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Nik sounded as shaky as a tectonic plate during an earthquake. 

Another blow just below the first set a second strip of Nik’s ass ablaze. “You will never inflict emotional or psychological pain on a rookie or any other teammate again.” 

“Yes, Captain.” Nik’s agreement was more of a yelp, and he clutched the comforter as if to prevent himself from reaching back to shield his buttocks from the onslaught of the paddle. 

The third smack cut into the flesh beneath the area assaulted by the second. “You will never joke about me taking advantage of anyone sexually or abusing their trust in me.” 

“Yes, Captain.” The tears streaming down Nik’s face made his tone wet and salty. 

Deciding to end the spanking now that Nik’s cheeks were damp with tears and his buttocks was a mass of crimson, Steve landed two more searing swats and then threw the instrument of punishment back into the drawer. Withdrawing a jar of ointment from the same drawer where he had stowed the paddle, because while he didn’t think that he had hit Nik hard enough to leave bruises the next day, the balm would ensure that didn’t happen, he squeezed Nik’s trembling shoulder and murmured, “I’m going to apply some lotion to your butt, kid. It might be cold.” 

Nik’s head jerked in acknowledgement, but when Steve started to rub the cream into his posterior, he whimpered and squirmed away from Steve’s touch, gasping, “Cold.” 

“I did warn you.” Steve fought to keep the amusement out of his tone as he resumed his ministrations to Nik’s rear, since he didn’t want Nik—who had to be in an extremely sensitive mood— to believe that he was laughing at his plight. Asking a question he wouldn’t have posed before the paddling because Nik would’ve been too defensive—nothing broke down barriers and made a person feel more vulnerable than having ointment massaged into their naked, freshly paddled backside—Steve continued, “Tell me, Nik, why did you pull that prank on Hank?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” Nik’s voice was muffled by the comforter he had pressed against his face. “You already punished me, Stevie. Can’t this just be over now?” 

“It can’t be over because I don’t know that we’ll never have this problem again.” Steve’s lips thinned as he continued to attend to Nik’s red and tender buttocks. “You have to let me know what made you prank Hank in such a cruel fashion so we can deal with that and not have this issue again.” 

“It’s none of your business.” Stubbornly evasive as an eel, Nik shook his head. 

“It became my business when your prank on Hank effected me.” Vexed that someone he had just paddled would dare to get haughty with him, Steve glowered. 

Unfortunately, the glower was lost on Nik, whose eyes were still buried in the blanket, and who merely grunted, “I can deal with it myself.” 

“If you could deal with it yourself, I wouldn’t have needed to paddle you, Niklas,” snapped Steve, delivering a sharp swat to Nik’s ass that drew a hiss from the recipient of the spank as the flames from the paddle were ignited again.

“I thought you were done spanking me.” With an expression of mingled anguish and anger, Nik craned his neck to fix his watery eyes on Steve. 

“Your spanking isn’t over until I pull up your pants.” Grinning wryly, Steve resumed rubbing balm into Nik’s burning behind. “Cooperate and you won’t get any more swats. Now, do you want to answer my question?” 

“I was—“ Nik took a deep breath as if he were about to dive into thirty feet of ice water—“jealous of him, I suppose. You spent so much time with him, and I was afraid that he’d take my place with you.” 

“Nobody could take your place with me.” Finished applying the lotion to Nik’s backside, Steve screwed the cap back onto the jar and placed the ointment back into the drawer. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately because he’s going through a rough transition right now, coming into the NHL and to a new country all at once, but if you need my attention, I’ll give it to you, as I proved now. I’d just rather give you other types of attention—“ 

“Me too,” interrupted Nik dryly. 

“Then just talk to me instead of pranking Hank,” Steve concluded, his lips twitching affectionately as he wiped the remnants of cream off his hands with a Kleenex and chucked the tissue into the trash can by the nightstand. “That way I won’t have to paddle you, okay?” 

“Okay, Captain,” Nik agreed, quiet as a feather falling to the carpeted floor. 

“Good.” Steve patted him on the shoulder before pulling up his underwear and pants, causing Nik to recoil as the fabric brushed over his tender rump. “Anything I can do to make you feel better, Nik?” 

“Can I sleep here tonight?” Nik’s hesitant manner suggested that he was fearful of being cast out of the house in this distressed state. “I don’t feel like moving.” 

“Of course you can sleep here tonight, or any other night you need to.” Soothingly, Steve stroked the nape of Nik’s neck. “There are some of my old T-shirts and shorts in the dresser in here that you can borrow and use as pajamas. Is there anything else you want?” 

“I want some comfort food.” Nik rolled over onto his side and cocked his head in contemplation. “Something warm and gooey. I’m not sure what, though.” 

“A grilled cheese?” suggested Steve, combing Nik’s hair away from his clammy forehead. 

“That’d be great.” Nik’s eyes shone like lanterns. “Could you make it two grilled cheeses, though, and can you cut them diagonally into diamonds?” 

“Two grilled cheeses cut diagonally into diamonds coming right up.” Steve ruffled Nik’s hair and was about to pivot to exit the room and go down to the kitchen to begin making Nik’s order when Nik made another request. 

“And can I have tomato soup on the side, Stevie?” Nik sounded as if the prospect of comfort food had already cheered him up considerably. 

“I spoil you.” Smiling at the child-like simplicity of Nik’s dinner order, Steve tapped Nik on the nose and disappeared to the kitchen to cook the meal Nik had requested. 

Ten minutes later when he returned to the guest bedroom bearing a tray laden with a bowl of tomato soup (manufactured by Campbell’s, but heated by him), two grilled cheeses cut into diagonal diamonds on a plate, and a mug of herbal tea he had spontaneously included to make Nik’s descent into dreamland less complicated even on an aching bottom, he saw Nik curled up against the pillows. 

Once Nik had accepted the dinner tray with a thank-you, he went on, fiddling with the spoon as he stirred it through the tomato soup, “I was doing some thinking while you were downstairs, Stevie, and it occurred to me that while I was lonely because I believed I had lost your attention and affection, Hank had to have been feeling even shittier since he was so far away from everything and everybody he really knows and cares about. I remember that isolated feeling now and how you helped me get over it, but I forgot it when I was feeling jealous of him. It was stupid of me to be jealous of him when he was probably more miserable than I was, and my prank only made both our situations more painful. In hindsight, I can’t believe there was so much I didn’t see.” 

“Don’t beat yourself up too much when I’ve already paddled you.” Steve’s mouth quirked. “Anyway, if it weren’t for hindsight, Nik, most of us would be blind as bats flying around without the benefit of echolocation and banging into the walls of our cave.”


End file.
